


Lazy Evenings

by bonesofether



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Recreational Drug Use, Rest and relaxation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 03:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesofether/pseuds/bonesofether
Summary: After successfully 'procuring' a bounty, Lockdown and Deadlock enjoy some much needed R&R with a bit of high-grade and drugged Energon treats.





	Lazy Evenings

**Author's Note:**

> This was the second place winner from my Twitter ficlet polls, but the characters and setting were too good to pass up.

Lounging in the empty tub, an overcharged Lockdown looked over lazily at Deadlock. The mech was currently finding the bottom of a bottle of high-grade; it was their second one, in fact. With a chuckle and a smirk, Lockdown reached over and tapped the bottle lightly with his hook. It made a hollow, clinking noise, which was soon replaced with Deadlock making an annoyed sound as he moved the bottle, still at his mouth, away and out of Lockdown’s reach. Once he was finished, however, Deadlock waved the bottle in a semi-threatening manner at the bounty hunter, even though they were both well aware that Deadlock was far too content and inebriated to be a real threat.

“You trying to make me choke?” Deadlock grumbled.

“Surprised you haven’t already,” Lockdown replied with a sneer. “That stuff you’re drinking tastes like old, used motor oil.”

“Maybe, but it does the job.”

That part Lockdown couldn’t argue. This time, however, his tastes were a bit more palatable, and he eyed the tray of Energon treats. They had been remade with an extra ingredient, and while it was relatively tasteless, the effects were anything but unnoticeable. Not to mention, for this occasion, Lockdown had even sprung for the stronger stuff.

With a short grunt, the bounty hunter reached over and plucked up one of the treats, while Deadlock worked on opening a new pair of bottles. One for each of them.

“Have to say,” Lockdown commented through a mouthful of drugged Energon treat as he watched Deadlock struggle with a particularly stubborn bottle, “you did better than I expected. Was worried you might lose your nerve there at the end.”

“Hmph,” Deadlock scoffed, glancing up at Lockdown as he continued to try and pry the bottle top off. “I wouldn’t have the reputation that I do now if I lost my nerve every time something unexpected came up. I’d be-frag this damn bottle.”

“Give it here,” Lockdown snickered, holding out his good hand. “It’s all in the wrist.”

There was a moment’s hesitation on Deadlock’s part, but he obliged, handing over the still unopened bottle with an inquisitive look on his otherwise relaxed features.

His wordless question was soon answered, however, when Lockdown caught the bottle top at the end of his hook hand and then effortlessly popped the cap free. The bounty hunter chuckled and took a long swig of the fiery, viscous liquid, reflexively making a grimace at the acrid taste. Setting the bottle aside for the moment, he coughed and worked to clear his intake. Across from him, still seated on the floor, Deadlock was giving Lockdown a knowing grin as he chewed slowly on one of the Energon treats.

“How’s that old, used motor oil going down?” Deadlock teased with a smirk.

“About as well as it did for you,” Lockdown answered. He ran his glossa over the roof of his mouth, and, still tasting the acidic burn of the high-grade, quickly reached over and snatched up another Energon treat. He popped it in his mouth and began to chew at it indulgently. Making sure that the far tastier flavor coated his mouth and glossa, Lockdown hummed loudly as he did so, nevermind that he couldn’t really carry a tune.

“I don’t know about that,” Deadlock laughed, only pausing to take a quick swig of his own drink. “At least I managed to keep from choking even after your attempt.”

“Ah, shut up.”

Though he didn’t say anything, Deadlock’s unwavering smirk was more than reply enough. Even so, it didn’t bother Lockdown. They were both in far too good of spirits from their successful hunt, and enjoying the strong drinks and spiked Energon treats, to let a petty squabble ruin the mood. However, though neither would ever admit it, both mechs were far too inebriated to actually put up any sort of a decent fight or argument, anyways.

“Why don’t you get that replaced, by the way?” Deadlock asked, nonchalantly waving at Lockdown’s hook hand.

“Eh, I’ve got better things to spend my money on,” Lockdown replied. He then chuckled and shrugged. “Besides, it’s kind of my thing now. My...aesthetic. Don’t you think?”

Looking over the hook, and remembering how it’d snagged and then cut deep into their unfortunate target’s armor, Deadlock made a hum of thought. As gruesome as it may have been, there was no denying that Lockdown had the art of ‘hooking’ someone down to an art form. Not to mention that the hook was kept incredibly sharp, and could pierce through most armors. After a few more moments of thought, trying to recall if he had ever encountered another mech with a hook like that, Deadlock nodded in agreement with a faint grin.

“Exactly,” Lockdown affirmed, pointing at Deadlock with his hook as though to further his point. “So, see? If I were to get my hook replaced, I’d lose my notoriety. I’d go from being Lockdown, the most skilled and feared bounty hunter of the galaxies, to Lockdown, some regular nobody with two hands.”

“Hey now.. I’m rather fond of my two hands,” Deadlock answered, feigning insult. “These two hands are rather skilled with the guns I’ve got.”

“Yeah, but is your name ‘Lockdown’?”

“No.” Deadlock paused, a moment of realization hitting him. He then laughed and took a swig of his drink. “I’m halfway there, though.”

Confused for a moment, mostly thanks to the drugs and high-grade, Lockdown considered what Deadlock had said. He then promptly came to the same realization that the sharpshooter had had, and chuckled loudly. He snickered and swirled his drink, watching the thick liquid slosh around in the bottle. Chuckling again, Lockdown took a quick drink before speaking.

“If we ever go into business together, though, we’d have a hell of a business card,” he commented. “Lock and Lock.”

“We might even be able to use that hook of yours to emboss the card.”


End file.
